polska_lego_mocfandomcom_pl-20200214-history
Backup1
Antichrist can be distinguished by his eyes. The world is controlled by Jews, Greys and Repitlians. Hitler is still alive. Refugees are forces of evil. I hate it. Idiotic overinterptations, bumbling and overall worthless content that only...oh, sweet irony, brainwashes people. But that's not the only reason why I absolutely hate conspiracy theories. I once had a friend, named Christopher. We knew eachother since childhood. He was a sponge for informations, no matter if he found them on the news, in the newspaper or even in a cartoon. He even tried to jump off the stairs with an umbrella like Mickey Mouse once, luckily our grandpa stopped him. It happened when he was five. We always had good time together, and remembering those times still brings a wide smile to my face. When we were both twelve, we discovered one of those cheap blogs that were copypasting scary stories, pre-creepypasta ones, like The Hook or the one about guy with AIDS and McDonalds fries. You all know it propably. Cheesy, "creepy" gifs in the background, everything in black and grey, and all that. But for us? It was like magic. We thought, and please don't laugh at this, that this is a site for adults only. And as you might expect, we both had nightmares after reading it. When we vere sixteen, we discovered one of the sites that listed conspiracy theories, around 2012. And they took it seriously. While I obviously considered this hilarious, Christopher got hooked. Few days passed, and during our walks to chool, Chris kept on bombarding me with story after story, beggining each one with "did you know that..." or "they say that...", and boy, those were the stories! The pope is a demon, aliens are watching us with jews and reptilians. Oh, and Monstanto, of course. He started reading the labels on everything he bought, and was reminding me constantly to avoid various substances, names of which I usually threw out of my mind right after the conversation. It was harmless, to be honest I was happy that my easily-impressed best friend started eating healthier. Even I myself started thinking about more organic diet. A year passed, and he was acting normally. Through spring, through summer, through autumn, but in winter...things started getting hairy. I noticed him with his laptop in my living room. I took a sneak-peek and noticed that he had two cards opened. One had one of those "shocking truth" movies playing, while other one had some sort of a shop that sells natural medicine. He was just ready to buy a few bottles of colloidal silver. I chuckled. -Don't buy this, Chris - I said -It's poisonous, don't you know? He looked at me. I will never forget that look on his face. He looked like I spit in his face. -Seriously? And you believe it...ehhh, im sometimes worried about you, you know. I like you, but seriously. He was my friend, and I wanted the best for him. I tried to speak to him resonably few more times, but he didn't care about it. He started buying silver, but wasn't drinking it. He was too afraid. He also bought a bunch od herbs and balsams, even a pendulum. Luckily he didn't use them, as his health wasn't bad. To be honest, it was really good. Last time he caught common cold was back when we were kids. And guess what was his explanation. Yeah, the mere presence of all the natural belts and whistles. In 2014, the decay started happening. Christopher starded healing himself only with alternative medicine. Before that period, he usually called his doctor and asked if he can use the herbs or something else, because he was taking medicine. It's a rather...personal thing. The guy had schizophrenia, it was diagnosed when he was ten, and he was taking special medicine since then. Now he stopped, due to the "fact" that presumably hypnosis and chromoteraphy, plus few special herbs can literally throw the schizophrenia out of his body. One day I visited his house and almost couldn't recognize him. He became skinnier, and had several red patches on his skin, presumably from itching, due to some allergic reaction to the plants. His room was filled with bizzare artifacts, presumably for his "sessions". It started looking more and more like some sort of an African voodoo parlor. And he was just sitting there, by his computer, watching those hilarious documentaries with yellow subtitles. -Hi! Chris turned towards me. -Sup. And he turned back to the screen. I walked up. Some documentary about RFID microchips, or whatever is this thing called. And in second card? Forum for anti-vaxxers. He was looking at the screen like in some sort of a trance. -What are you watching, Chris? -Eeeh, nuttin', eh, did you know that they could turn the internet off? Like...they control what we do here? -Stop changing the subject, okay? -Uh-uh. Okay. I expected him to get angry, but no. He kept on staring to the screen. It started to slowly annoy me. -Parents let you look at it so long? -Yeah. I asked him a few more questions. And to all of them, he responded with an "Uh-uh" or "Yeah". I never thought that I will ever see my friend turned into one of those exaggregated "internet users" from those pseudo-real documentaries about how the internet is the devil. I thought that basically there is nothing else I can do, so I left. Few weeks later, we had to move out of the small town, to a bigger city. From reasons unknown. Me and my family. I completly threw Christopher out of my head. He was just a lost cause. 2017. I was living in the city, working and doing the daily routine. One day while browsing internet tho, I encountered a YouTube channel that lists all the conspiracy theories. Some man was talking about them, commenting them in a satirical way. Nothing great or something, just a random guy. He didn't even have one-hundred subscibers. You propably expect him to be Christopher, but he wasn't. He just gave me a grim reminder of my friend, lost to conspiracy theories. If not for them, we would propably still be together, even despite my moving out. He told me he deleted his Facebook and YouTube accounts, due to being afraid. So there was no way to contact him. I felt sorry for him, because excluding the whole schizophrenia thing Chris was a very nice person. He always was caring, especially when it goes to animals. The schizophrenia itself wasn't really a problem. To be honest...I didn't even knew how it worked. One day I decided to visit him one last time, for a reunion after few years. I don't know what I was thinking back then, but this was just stupid hope. Why did I expect a man like him to turn out normal? And how? I have no answer to those questions. I still don't. It took me a couple of hours to drive to his old home. It was a rather warm day, and even on 18:54 it was still bright. The sky was getting yellow, but the whole neighbourhood seemed grey. Everything was grey. Houses, trees, the grass, fences. Few lonely cars were sitting on the lawns. I could hear kids playing in the distance, unseen. Once I found Chris' house, i barely recognized it. The lawn was overgrown, and filled with various trash, such as hubcaps and broken bricks. Even his old bike was laying there, rusting in the grass. Filthy puddles of mud were everywhere. Garage door was broken completly, with the old family Audi A4 inside. The house itself looked grimy, with paint peeling off revealing bricks underneath, broken windows, wooden elements completly rotten, muck-filled rain gutters and ripped off roof tiles. It was clear that no one lived here for few years, and I started wondering if Chris maybe moved out too. I knocked on the door, just to make shure. Chris was capable of doing such thing, and I propably expected that he just gave up on adult life and locked himself in the room just doing whatever work he got, if he got any. No answer. So I decided to use the door ring. It's not like I didn't wait for the answer, I stood there for like ten minutes. Five minutes for the knock, and five minutes for the ring. No answer. I was just going to leave, but then I realised something. After all, Chris might be busy doing something or is just listening to music or something else on headphones so he can't hear me. I opened the door and went inside. -Chris! It's me, Richard! Remember me? I decided to do a little reunion with you? How is it going? Inside was rather empty. Last time I saw it, it was filled haphazardly with Chris's family junk. Massive amounts of cluttered stuff such as cardboard boxes and broken electornics. I looked around. Everything looked normal, well, excluding the fact that almost all the things were covered by thick layers of dust and spider webs. Just like a typical abandoned house. -Chris! It's me! I don't even know why I called him again. He couldn't have moved, otherwise they would take their belongings with them. First off, I decided to check on his parents. They weren't there. Their room was also abandoned, and they were nowhere to be seen. Only thing besides the horde of items inside, was the smell. Mixture of sweat, rotten food left around, herbs and...feces. Deep inside I knew Chris was still there. I started wandering around. Living room was empty. So was the bathroom, the basement, and pretty much every room and corridor. Chris's room was also lacking any sign of life. Only his bizzare "meds". The room was literally clogged with them. There was even a bong for marijuana, laying broken on the floor, and a giant hookah pipe in the corner. It looked almost like a replica of the pipe used by Jabba The Hutt from Star Wars, except it was working. The old computer was still there, turned off. Everything was smelling foul, the mixture of smells was absolutely hideous. What really made me uneasy, was a rather weird scribble on the wall, done with a tool that seemed like a chisel. It was a cartoonish drawing of Donald Trump, a child-like caricature of him. There was the wall too. And behind it were twisted drawings of jews, mexicans and muslims. But that was not the worst part. On the other wall, there was another scribble. Of an eye in a triangle, with strange rays coming out of it. Then I heard a loud thump downstairs that sounded like someone tripping and falling over. -Chris? Is that you? It's me, Richard! Remember me?- I said, as I was coming down the stairs -I decided to do a little reunion? What's on your mind currently, is your mom alright? No response. I went to the room where the thump was coming from, and saw absolutely nothing out of the "ordinary". Except for one thing. There was a mark on the wall, just like someone smashed it hard with a fist. Wallpaper was ripped off slightly in that place. I took a peek under it, and saw wood. Not knowing what to do, I ripped it off, and was suprised to find a door behind. My jaw was wide open. Was that some sort of a secret passage? I know this seems like something out of a James Bond movie, but it was. On the other side of the wall was a wooden door. First off I thought this was some sort of a joke, but then I got a reminder of one article I saw once, about a guy who had a hidden room in his house without even knowing it. I opened the door, and it revealed a long staircase leading down into the darkness. With a rather stressful pant, I went downstairs. That was the scariest experience of my life. The room down there looked like a very old basement, pre-World War II easily, but now...it was filled with plants. Vines hanging from the ceiling, moss on the walls, and potted herbs everywhere. Some of them were so overgrown, they looked mutated to some degree. Various chemical apparatus were sitting on tables, mixed with spiritistic artifacts such as the Ouija board or some weird stones. Dreamcatchers were tingling in the air. And the air itself smelled even worse than in the other parts of the house, aromas of herbs were so intense that they were hurting my nostrills slightly. Fog and steam was in the air, limiting my visibility horrendously. Suddenly, I heard footsteps on the stairway behind me. I quickly rushed to the wardobe to hide in it. Just to be safe. My heart was beating rapidly, and I had trouble swallowing my saliva. I left a small, barely-noticable creak in the door of my hideout for a look-see. Some dark figure, some dark mass was going downstairs to the room. It looked like two men, one walking and one crawling, following eachother. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed that the walking one...was dragging a body. My heart now was pounding like mad, as I desperatly tried not to faint. The man pulled a hospital bed out of the darkness, and put the body on it. Both of them had bags on their heads. The body got restrained using belts and ropes. Any normal person would call the police from the wardrobe, but not me. Obviously I had to forget my phone. What happened then, I don't really like to discuss, as those events haunt me even to this day. The man rushed to the wardobe door, and flung it open. The moment I saw him, I couldn't escape. I was paralised with pure, intense fear. Before I could do anything, I just fainted. And woke up tied in a chair. Whoever was behind that mask put my chair next to the operating table with the body. And he was nowhere to be seen. Few minutes of silence and anxiety passed, until the man showed up. Now I could see him. He was shrouded in black cloak, like some sort of a creepy monk. With the bag on his face. He kneeled before me, and looked at my face. -Let me go!- I screamed, not knowing what to do -Let me go, I will tell nobody! Please! I just went here to see my friend, I didn't know! I was literally panicking. My brain was pulsating in a rash of fear. The man remained silent and still, until he finally got up, and pulled the bag on his face off, and took off the cloak. It was then, that I just screamed. Not comprehending what just happened. My body just couldn't take it. There, under that bag and cloak was Chris. It was him, but I could barely recognize him. He had black circles formed under his eyes, and was skeletally thin. Like some anorectic person. He was wearing baggy shirt and pants, ripped and dirty. His skin was pale with eschars everywhere, and one of his hands even had signs of slight necrosis. He had various tatoos, and his mouth was pierced. He barely had any hair left, and his bald head had few stitches on it. He looked terryfying. -Chri-chris? Is...is that you? My throat was still hurting from the screams. Chris looked at me again, with his beady, little eyes. -Ricky? His voice was still reminiscent of old Christ, but was more rasty, it sounded like he was smoking four packs a day. -Ricky, so you are here? Finally, good. At last. He seemed to be afraid of something, constantly looking back and forth to all sides. -Good, good! At last, seems like...uhhh...uh... Chris walked up to a table and pulled out something that looked like a jagged knife. My heart started pumping faster again. -Chr-chris? -No, no, don't worry- he said -It's just a knif...uhh...for...uhh...see...yeah, see h-here. He ignited few candles and put them around the body on table. Then he took the knife, and looked at it. -Chris, what are you doing? -Well...uhh...see, here? The guy has...the guy is shady... Somthin'...s' not right 'bout him...yeah, you see? It was clear that he rarely spoke now. A mixture of sadness, anxiety and anger started swelling up inside me. -Chris, don't do it! He's innocent, stop it! Man, what happened to you? -See, you see...uhh...he...he, the guy basically...uhh...he was working there, the lab in the town, y'know...we have to... -What, you are still at it? Why won't you finally take your meds? Come on, can't we just get along? Untie me, we'll go to the doctor, and it will all sort out, im not angry at you, man! And he gave me that stare again. The same stare he gave me years ago, after I almost stopped him. After I almost stopped all this from happening. His decay. Then without a warning, he jabbeded the knife onto the chest of the seemingly dead body. It springed up and started screaming, it's screams muffled by the bag. The man was still alive. -No, stop it! I squirmed in the ropes, until I finally managed to get my arm out. Chris luckily didn't notice. I jumped out of my restrains, took the nearest knife and struck Chris's back with it. He screamed, as I ran away upstairs, and rushed to my car. I was so terrified, I almost had a heart attack. I quckly drove back to the city, not caring about the monster that Chris became. I decided to just leave him behind, leave him alone. And don't bother him anymore, or else he might find and kill me. He is no longer human. I should never let him escape reality.